Las Identidades
by A Drop of Starlight
Summary: I am Spain. I am fighter before lover, country before man.


**A/N 2014: Hi again... Just Random Girl here with a random note - If you guys see a review with my name it was NOT ME omg. I was pranked by a friend who reviewed while I was logged in to my account, to make it look like I did it. And now I cannot delete it whahahah what do I do. I have no reason to review my own stories. That was embarrassing though... Anyway sorry for the digression, you can ignore the rest of my ramblings and enjoy the story! Although it's not a happy one...**

**But then again I am a sad and angsty person. **

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_Las Identidades - __Identities_

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I am Spain. I am fighter before lover, country before man.

_I am a fighter._ I am a fighter when I raise my head in pride for my homeland. I am a fighter when I lift my sword to defend a defenseless small child. I am a fighter when I hold that child close to stop him from being snatched away, I am a fighter when I resolve to protect him with everything in my power. I am a fighter when I watch him grow—when I watch and wait and bear the weight of his temper, his foul mouth, and his unreasonably reasonable ways.

I am a fighter when I stand tall and take the blows that were meant for him. I am a fighter when I raise my voice instead of my fists, when I speak for and against him—but mostly for. I am a fighter when I promise myself to smile for him always, to smile above the hurt so I can see him happy. I am a fighter, when I fight _every day every hour every minute every second _just to remind him that I need him more than anything else, than any_one_ else, that I cannot let him slip away.

_I am a lover. _I am a lover when I bend down to kiss him in the dark of night, when I trace my lips across his and drown in the bright stars that are his eyes. I am a lover when I race against time to memorize his every last word and every last touch and every last kiss.

I am a lover when my fingers meet his and my eyes meet his and my heart knocks silently on his door, waiting _ever waiting_ for him to open and welcome and accept what has always been there for him. I am a lover when I say those three soft words loud as I can, to him and him alone—if he would only listen hard enough, if he would only believe. I am a lover when I walk the earth and know that in this small world there is only one I will ever want, one who is ever ever out of reach.

_I am a country._ I am a country when my people's needs and wants come first. I am a country when I look into his eyes and he says Spain and I Romano. I am a country when the only way I can see him is by crossing a strip of land called a border and not a strip of land called a heart. I am a country when I reach over to hold his hand during meetings, when that is dismissed as nothing but a gesture of goodwill between two neighbors.

I am a country when he comes to me bearing piles of documents with official stamps, piles of paper and piles of problems and piles of the many pieces of his fragile heart. I am a country when I watch him grow and one day walk far, far away, and I feel nothing when I stare at the sun every seventeenth of March because I know it is the beginning of a new life, _his_ new life. I am a country when I sit and think and brush off the fact that his life will never ever include me.

But finally _I am a man_. I am a man when my needs and wants do battle with his. I am a man when his tongue slips one day and he calls me Antonio, when I slip on purpose and call him Lovino. I am a man when I go to his door and knock with my heart and stand there waiting in the rain to tell him _I love you, I love you, I love you_.

I am a man when I reach forward to envelop him despite his struggles, despite his tears, despite his harsh words. I am a man when I sit with him in the dark of some corner and listen to every word he says and take every burden of his upon my heart so he won't have to feel it anymore. I am a man when I try to wash away the hurt with a few bottles of beer and a few dropped tears. I am a man when he goes and I follow and I trace a path with my heart, my soul, so that if one day I go and he cannot follow, I will remember him and he will remember me. I am a man when I think these thoughts and say these things and mean every single one of them, down to the last letter, always.

I am Spain. I am fighter before lover, country before man.

I am Antonio. I am lover before fighter, man before country.

And today I am _Antonio—_because of him.


End file.
